Doyle is Dead
It was a simple thing, really, just another alert across JJ's desk, but there it was.
Ian Doyle was dead.
A car bomb, of all things, in Ireland. Just whoosh, pink mist, and gone.
JJ was a handler and a very good one. One of her people-they were hers and not the State's thank you very much-would like that news. It meant that years of hiding were over.
Marie Panault was a Belgian citizen, living in Brussels and working as a paper-pusher for a company that set up websites for clients. She spoke no English, only German and French, lived quietly, and had a young son whom she was supporting. The boy's name was Lorenzo, an odd choice in America but in Europe accepted without a second glance.
His middle name was Aaron, and that had worried JJ no end.
"It leads back to your old life," JJ had warned the new mother.
Marie had nodded. Her hair was short and dark red. "But he needs something of his father's,"
"He's got the scowl," JJ joked, knowing there was no way to talk Marie out of it.
Marie had few friends, except some of her son's friend's mothers, more like acquaintances, really. She had never had a serious boyfriend-except for the obvious one who had given her Lorenzo.
And really, Lorenzo was the best cover of all, since Doyle had been looking for a single woman, not a mother.
But now the cover wasn't needed. Doyle was dead.
Her boss called and told her that Marie Panault no longer needed the cover. She was being cut loose.
JJ was on the next flight to Brussels.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Marie's flat was on a quiet little side street, with whispering trees. JJ walked up to her apartment, knowing that she wasn't at work yet, that Lorenzo still needed to eat his breakfast. She knocked.
Marie answered the door. "JJ!"
JJ smiled. "Can I come in?" she asked-in English, not French.
Marie opened the door wider and JJ stepped through. "How's Lorenzo?"
"He's great. And Henry?"
"Soccer team. Kicking butt, too."
"Great. Have a seat?"
JJ smiled. "I have news."
Marie waited.
JJ could see the thoughts flashing. Was anyone on the team hurt? JJ had only ever had news twice before-once about Dave's latest marriage-to a model-going pear-shaped, and once when Derek had been shot and nearly died.
"Ian Doyle is dead."
She watched the words sink in, re-form. Watched Marie mouth them.
"Ian Doyle is dead. You don't need to be Marie Panault any more."
She could see the smile forming.
"Ian Doyle is dead. You and Lorenzo can come home, Emily. Back to DC. Back to your family."
"But-my funeral-they think-wouldn't it be to hard?"
JJ hugged her. "I'll explain. They understood before, about Declan and why you did what you did. They'll understand now. I'm taking the next flight to DC. Will you take the one after me?"
There were tears, great big ones. Lorenzo came running up.
"Mama-mama-mama!" he jump-hugged her. "Where we going, Mama?"
She laughed a little. "Home to Mama's family. Jesus, JJ, no one knows about Lorenzo-what will Hotch?-"
"Will you trust me, you little twerp?" JJ asked, laughing herself.
"Okay. Okay. I'll come home. I need to pack some things for us, get tickets-oh my boss is going to kill me-who cares-JJ?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
"Welcome back to life as you know it, Emily."
. . . . . . . . . . .
The next meeting was harder.
Hotch still occupied his office above the bullpen, but the pictures were now of an older Jack, some with his best friend Henry, both of them playing soccer, or with his dad. Even the old one of them smiling together when Jack was four was still there.
"JJ!"
Hotch got up and hugged her. "What can I do for you?"
"Ian Doyle is dead."
"I heard."
Now the hard part. "Hotch, you know I'm a handler for the State Department-"
"JJ," he interrupted. "Are you telling me this because-?"
He left the sentence hanging.
"She's alive. Now that Doyle's dead she can come back home."
Hotch rarely smiled, unless it was at Jack. But this was a face-splitter.
"There's more," she warned. "She has a son, Lorenzo. Lorenzo Aaron."
Hotch still a profiler. She could see him catching up to this new information. "And the father is-"
JJ just smiled.
"Can I tell the team?"
"Yes."
And then Hotch did something else out of character, and gave JJ a bear hug. She could feel the quivering of him suppressing tears.
"Thanks, JJ."
"She's different now, Hotch. She's still scared."
"I know."
"Doyle burned a clover in her chest."
Hotch nodded.
"Even though he's dead she's still scared."
"I still look for Foyet."
"Let's go tell the team. How's Ashley?"
"Driving Dave to the brink."
"Good. He needs the exercise."
Author's Note: Was it just me or did anyone else notice that Doyle was still at large last night? Anyway, this is the byproduct of anger at CBS for taking OUR girls away, so I figured-hell, I'll bring Emily back. JJ will be playing a big roll in this story, too. Reviews?
